Angels, Demons an a Lord
by mightyBookworm
Summary: "Oh your bookshop is brilliant" who comes to help Aziraphale and Crowley stop the antichrist from destroying the world? oh yes our fav time lord and Donna to boot, not sure where this is going. some time in new series 4 of DW and half way through GO.
1. Splitting up and Spilling wine

A/N: okay so this is just an idea that I had at about 2 in the morning and I just had to get it down because I can't believe this hasn't been done yet. if the characters aren't right then I would like a beta to go over it please. this is also my first crossover so be kind. Well enjoy!

The TARDIS jarred and began to to spin out of control and its occupants were thrown around like rags dolls. The Doctor clutched at the controls although it was impossible to actually do anything to them, he was used to this, better to just ride it out. Donna just hung onto the thing that was closest, which happened to be sturdy pillar.

After the first burst of rebellion the ship kept shaking and rumbling but with less ferocity than before. The Doctor pressed some buttons on the console(1) a deep look of confused concentration on his face.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Donna shouted over the rattling once she was on her feet again. The Doctor just shrugged and continued to fiddle with knobs and the TARDIS slowed to a stop in its usual whirring manner.

There was a short pause while the Doctor consulted strange symbols ons a screen then eventually a response came slow at first but gained momentum.

"Power. lots of power. Not just a lot but masses and masses of it, coming from two places at once? How is it possible that so much can come from such a little island? Honestly why do I even bother going round the universe when I should just stay in Britain" he seemed surprised and a bit flustered, that wasn't good, as far as Donna could tell at any rate.

"So have we landed?" she queried, a little put off by him.

"Yep, I think this calls for a spot of splitting up, I know that's what they say in those bad horror films that you humans like so much, but we aren't going to be picked off with bad special effects – at least I hope not – it hasn't happened to me yet, well accept..."

"Doctor! Focus, where and when are we? 'cus I am not going back to the fourteenth century again(2)" Donna was adamant on this point.

"No no no, much more your time, early '90s I think. a lovely village south of Oxford, called Lower Tadfield. Your mission if you choose to accept it, agent Noble, is to find out who lives in a place like this, spacifically those that have the power to mess with my pride and joy" a cheeky grin spread across the Doctors face as he stroked the console gently.

"Yessir" she solutes and grabbed a jacket of the floor where it had been displaced to. She still wasn't sure about this, she wasn't used to going freelance so to speak but if he thought it be al right then she'd give it a punt. Donna paused at the door and turned to face the Doctor "is there a chance of anything bad happening?"

"Not at all, this is the English countryside after all" his grin hid a look of uncertainty "if anything untoward happens just give me a bell, I'll only be in Soho"

A last warning glance back then a deep sigh. she stepped through the TARDIS doors into... greenness.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"The poin' isssss, poin' is, poin' is?" the dark haired man with the sunglasses slurred, a glass of red wine cupped in his hands.

"poin' is tha' you don' 'ave a poin'?" the blonde across the table suggested with a mocking look in his clear blue eyes "or the poin' of you lot is to make us look brill"

The other man pondered this for a long moment "nahhhhh 'hat's not it bu' good poin'. Maybe its th' other way round? Your there to make us lot look exsssitein' and maybe we're more epe-epeal, better suit'd to nat'ral human behavour" an over the top look of triumph spread across the thin features.

"Wellllllll, i's inef-ineff ineff'ble, I do keep tellin' you, dear" a tinge of drunken exasperation crept into the blondes voice. He made a dismissive gesture which almost resulted in the contents of his wineglass soaking a pile of very old looking ledgers on the desk between the two.

"You an' the ineff'ble rubbishhhhhh, 'gain" sunglasses leant forward to pour himself another glass and grasped the bottle on the forth attempt, giving the other time to think of a response.

"Well 'm 'n angel. got to go by what him upstairs says an' he's what th' word was inv'nted for(3)" the heavenly being countered, a smug grin on his face.

"I w'ssss one tooo. Once, 'member?" his companion muttered into his glass. There was a uncomfortable silence whilst both tried to think of something to say that wouldn't mention the dark haired beings fall from grace.

"'s almost noon" the angel observed, peering at the hands on all three clocks he could see.

"I`'d best get goin' th'n, got temptin' to do" the demon stood, swaying a little. He began to purge the alcohol from his system(4).

"Bes' get sober too" his partner agreed "but doesn' seem 'ny poin' really, it being the aboc-aproc-apocol, end o' th' world"

A moment later they were both fresh and sober, they stood and made their way out of the back room of the bookshop and towards the door. The demon straightened his tie and was about to open the bookshops front door when a short rapping came on the glass.

Both beings jumped back in not so much fright as blood chilling terror that someone(5) had found out about the Arrangement, it had taken them 6 millennia after all,

"Oh dear(6). Who is it, dear boy?" the angel shrank back, not wanting to answer to one of the archangels.

"for go- for heav- for someones sake! It sssseemssss to be a man with sssscruffy brown hair, a sssstriped sssuit, brown overcoat and battered converssssse" the demon couldn't control the hiss when the fear of smiting overtook him. He jumped behind a pile of old leather-bound books.

"Not one of ours, we are never scruffy" the angel sounded a bit miffed "what are communications anyway?"

"it'ss not ours either, he's actually smiling and not evilly either" a sigh "converse are trainers, shoes"

Another short rap and a man's voice call "Hello, anyone in there? Can I buy an emergency book? In a bit of a rush and need a book in a hurry"

The heavenly being strode to the door, flipped the closed/open sign to open and turned the knob tentatively with a well manicured hand.

"Hello, don't mind me, just come for a book" the man said as he pushed passed the startled shop owner.

(1)As usual it just looked like he was banging the first ones he saw, like a chimp on a typewriter but who tries to understand the Doctors ways?

(2)See,its not just Crowley who hates the fourteenth century

(3)It hasn't been officially established that ineffable was invented to discribe God but if an angel says it I'm inclined to believe him, even when intoxicated

(4)Its not all bad being a demon or angel if you can do things like that, no hangover either, result

(5)either upstairs or downstairs. The angel and demon both didn't know which was worse

(6)angels as a rule don't swear, it being a sin and all but it had taken this one a long time and practice not to do so

Well that's it for now, please R&R and tell me if it is good enough to carry on


	2. Spies, Tea and Mountains of news

The Them were in the chalk pit, they usually were(1). It was a hot day but something seemed to be brewing because not much was happening, like a calm before a storm. If this was the case then it was a bloody great storm coming and no mistake.

The heat was a kind of sweaty stickiness, the consistency of soup, that made everyone think that everyone else were too close and that people made too many bodily fluids. This was especially true for Dog so much so that there was a lingering smell of wet dog and something a lot more sinister that clawed at the nose and suggested it had been through some organs already. It wasn't really a playing kind of day, it was more of a talking about the real important things in life kind of a day, like sweets, comics and above all the faults of all grown ups.

"An' she's just wondering around, very suspicious" said Pepper almost accusingly.

"Maybe she's doing a survey of some sort" Wensleydale pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. They slipped straight back down.

"Don't you know her, Pepper?" Brian had taken a big risk here(2) "you might be related, you do look very similar, you know, red hair..." he trailed off at the death stare Pepper gave him that any witch would be proud of.

"Wonder what she's surveying?" Adam mused "or maybe she's not doing that at all, it's just a trick and she's really a spy and spying on Lower Tadfield"

The Them gave this due consideration.

"Who would she spy on here? Apart from Mr Tyler 'cus he's a grumpy old fart" Pepper hazarded, agreement echoed of the smooth white walls of the pit.

"If she is, then she's very good at it" reasoned Wensleydale "I reckon she's lost, my mum said she came and asked where and _when_ she was. My mum said it was now and the woman went away"

"Maybe, just maybe, she's friends with the witch at Jasmine cottage and this is a result of a spell gone wrong, like trans-county teleport" the other three stared at Brian scornfully, jealous that they hadn't thought of that. Simplest explanations never came easily to the Them.

"Or maybe she came from one of the Tibetan tunnels you was telling us about?" Pepper asked Adam

"Lets go and ask her then" Adam decided getting up off his milk crate and slouched out of the pit, Dog in toe. The other Them got up and followed in a mixture of excitement and uneasiness.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The jasmine fluttered in the lazy breeze as Donna prepared to knock on the door but her fist didn't connect. The Door swung back to reveal a young woman of no more than twenty looking as though she had been waiting for someone(3).

"You're ten minutes late" she said evenly.

"Erm... yes" there isn't really anything to say to that "i think you think I'm someone else. I'm here to ask you if you have noticed anything a bit strange going on here"

"Is your name Dorothy or Diane or possibly Donna? The woman said studying a slip of paper from a card index.

"Donna, yes, how did you do that" she was amazed, even though she'd seen the wonders of the universe, she still hadn't seen a psychic who wasn't a fraud.

"Well it's a bit complicated" said the woman uncomfortably "I'm Anathema Device by the way"

"Pleased to meet you" Donna said politely although she was still a bit confused.

"I think we need to have a little chat" Anathema grimaced as if this was going to be hard "Do you want a cup of tea(4)"

Donna sat on the bench under the Jasmine and ivy that trailed the house and surveyed the area. A major part of which was every shade of green or a dusty dry brown, she wasn't used to this, it was more alien than any planet she'd been to before. She thought she'd found something useful, the woman with black hair and eyes did look very strange, seeming to know what was going on. She may even be the cause of such weird weather, it was actually warm and dry in the summer. A near impossibility in the British isles.

Anathema reappeared as if by magic with two steaming mugs of tea. She perched next to Donna in an uneasy way as if at any moment she had some bad news.

"I know about you" Anathema muttered looking at her feet as if asking them if she was doing the right thing.

"Excuse me?" Donna almost spat her tea out like in a bad sitcom.

"I know about where you go and what you do, The Book told me. You've had quite a few adventures, haven't you. That Doctor he does get everywhere"

"You're telling me, poking his nose anywhere and everywhere" Donna sighed.

Anathema nodded "I expect you're here for the end of the world"

"It's not the end yet, is it?" this sort of thing tended to happen a lot of the time so it was becoming the norm "why do you think so?"

"Have you heard of a witch called Agnes Nutter?" Anathema had the tone of someone with an embarrassing condition who has to explain it too many times to too many people who then put on that pitying look.

Donna was about to answer that she'd only heard of Abigail Williams who was a fraud in the end anyway(5), when four bikes skidded to a stop on the lane outside the house in a cloud of dust, that soon settled to reveal the new arrivals.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Newton Pulsiver was sat in the middle of not so much a mound as several Alps-worth of papers and magazines in Shadwells dingy hovel(6) aka Witch-finder Army HQ. The hummocks were punctuated occasionally by a ridge of reference or leather-bound tomes.

"It keeps popping up in important places throughout time, even in times when police boxes hadn't even been invented" Newt thought Shadwell would be suspicious but he just sat in a chair indifferently, with a tin of condensed milk hovering in his hand like a glass of brandy "it seems quite magical to me"

Shadwell had a sort of electric sense to any word related to witchcraft and gave Newt his full attention if any were mentioned "Aye, where be it now?"

"It tends to disappear for a while and then comes back" Newt added "but definitely occult"

"Nothin' ken come good from a box comin' and gooin'" wise words spoken by a wise elder.

"I was thinking of scouting for it, it's increasingly centring on London, maybe then I could pop of to Tadfield to take a look at their weird weather" (normal depending on your point of view)

"I s'pose" he contemplated in a slightly sticky voice "be here in morning for yer armour o' righteousness then"

Free at last, Newt thought as he walked down the stairs past madam Tracey's 'boudoir of evil'(7) and the Rajeets newsagents below, get out there and do some real witch-hunting.

He unlocked and gently got in, any sudden movements could cause damage, his Wasabi and began to drive down the the road. Anticipation was mounting inside him as to what would happen the following day with the magic box, someone should really come up with an abbreviation for it; shift, hyper, inter-dimensional trunk? Ah maybe not. He turned the corner trying to think up a better one and therefore didn't look in his wing mirrors whereby he didn't notice the royal blue police box expertly parked between a bin and a lamppost.

(1)Mostly to avoid greasy Johnson and the Johnsonites not that they were scared or nothing, they were just annoying but that didn't make a difference because it was the Thems den, their pit.

(2)Any smart person avoids angering Pepper at all costs, when provoked she has the agility, speed and ferocity of a cat that has just fallen in a pond, you have been warned.

(3)Which she had been because of The Book

(4)It has been recorded that almost all political quarrels, wars and really bad fallouts in history have all been sorted out with a good brew and in the most dire of situations a hobnob.

(5)One of the apparent witches in the Salem witch trials and who started accusing everyone else for her own ends. I had to do Arthur Millers Crucible in English, it's all in there. Who says you never use stuff you've learnt at school in real life?

(6)and that's being generous, a tankers worth of bleach wouldn't make the tiniest bit of difference.

(7)Shadwells turn of phrases were always a bit coarse but all part of the WA, Newt actually quite liked Madam Tracey as a sort of kooky aunt figure.

A/N:I'm so happy with all the feedback i've had, glad to see someone likes this. Apologies if the Shadwell is a bit bad cus I'm not that good at accents. Hope you liked it, please R&R. The next chapter should be up soon (which is somewhere between now and in a while)


	3. More tea, Questions and Ping Pong

A/N: just a note to say sorry for the long wait, I'm easily distracted.

The apparent customer leafed through a large volume absentmindedly while the supernatural creatures just stared; the forthrightness of him was just astonishing. There was a silence that was only punctuated occasionally by the turning of pages or small nostalgic giggles from the Doctor.

"That Nostradamus, what a joker" he muttered to himself.

"Can I help you?" an innocent question in theory but applied to Aziraphale's book hoarding sensibilities was almost a threat.

The man slowly looked up from the crackling pages and over his glasses at other man (well man shaped thing) with a look of innocence that any am-dram actor would be proud of(1).

"No thank you, I'm quite alright, although if you have a cup of tea(2) that would be brilliant" he said benignly.

"I thought you were in a hurry" Crowley pointed out, devils advocate as always.

"Yes. In a hurry to check out this book shop" was the bright response, as if it was obvious to anyone with an ounce of sense.

A sigh escaped the angel's lips as he headed for the back room, forcibly accommodating; this rare book dealer act was not an act any more. He didn't want this strange man touching his precious books.

"Milk, no sugar" came a shout from the other room. Aziraphale's eye twitched but he carried on with the tea regardless,_ love for all god's creatures_ he repeated over and over in his head.

Crowley stood near the shop door a little uncomfortably whilst the Doctor read idly, this man had an intensity that made the demons skin crawl(3). He excused himself and snaked his way to the back room too.

As soon as he was alone, the Doctor pulled out his trusty sonic screwdriver and bent down just where the two had been standing and scanned "Aha, gotcha'" he smirked.

Meanwhile in a somewhat cramped back room, Aziraphale was dithering whilst making tea and Crowley was just watching him over the top of his sunglasses.

"He's licking his finger and using it to turn the page!" the look of complete horror would have been hilarious if it wasn't completely serious even so Crowley stifled a sly snigger.

"Calm down, Angel. Just sell him a book and we can get back to things" he suggested. If at all possible Aziraphale's face became more anguished.

"Sell a book? Don't joke with me Crowley" the words were soft and low, almost dangerous(4).

Crowley became suddenly very wary so he changed the subject. "There is something... well spooky about him, not my kind of spooky but something different, he seems ageless, his eyes are too old for his face. Like yours but not so angelic. nor mine, he has good intentions. Somewhere in between. Is it possible there's someone else meddling that's not Above or Below?"

The angel pinned Crowley with an ice blue stare. He picked up the tray with the assorted tea things and took it back into the front of the shop. Crowley followed a little behind holding a small jug of milk that Aziraphale had missed.

"Cheers" said the Doctor putting the book down "Your bookshop is brilliant! Now let's get down to business, shall we?"

"What are you?" all three asked at the same time.

Silence.

"Right, spill the beans" Crowley put on his most intimidating, flames of hell voice. The man just raised a single eyebrow in amusement.

"I'm inspector Smith, revenue and custom" the lie rolled of his tongue as it always did, he whipped out the psychic paper and showed it to them.

"It's blank" Aziraphale observed as if he wasn't certain if it was just him "is it supposed to be?"

"Oh er... yes" improvisation yet another strong suit of the Doctor's.

"No it wasn't, the jig is up(5)" Crowley was going for bad cop.

Aziraphale looked puzzled but nodded in agreement "I'm not sure what that meant but stop lying, erm it's a sin" Duty taking over here.

"I'm not the only one lying" the Doctor muttered darkly over the lip of his cup "are you going to tell me what you are and where you're from? Not Slitheen are you?"

"I beg your pardon? That's a bit personal" Aziraphale's blue eyes widened in absolute horror "No. we're..." what was going to say? _H__i, were just your friendly neighbourhood supernatural beings, I was the angel of the eastern gate, flaming sword and everything and that's my counterpart, he introduced original sin into the world. _Maybe not.

"We represent two organisations that have distinct standing in moral respects" Crowley was getting the hang of this corporate jargon thing: saying as little as possible in so much; obscure, complicated and above all official sounding language.

The Doctor nodded in the way that little insurance dog named after a notable 20th century prime minister does that makes people want to punch things "okay, I believe we have a problem"

"I'll tell you what, let's make a deal" said Crowley with a serpentine sly smile "I'll give you 20 questions that we will answer honestly and if you guess who we are then we'll fill in the gaps, if you guess wrong then you tell us who you are"

"I'm not making a deal with the devil am I?" the Doctor joked but the Angel shot the demon a fleeting glance that said _tell me he did__n't just say that, I hope you know what you're doing _"Okay, question one, why do you radiate so much power?"

"Because, we are such; charismatic, interesting people, what? It's the truth. I said it's my job" quipped Crowley; the last was because of an ineffably righteous look from Aziraphale.

The questions carried on, covering most areas of the universe and quite a large amount of science fiction literature that does, did or should exist(6). Crowley tried to take each question and twist it so that he would reveal nothing. Aziraphale said very little as he was bound to tell no lies yet was not anxious to tell anything either.

"Question twenty, oh god, I'm running out of ideas. Wait, Your not gods are you? Of course you're not, look at you. Wait that wasn't my question! Erm..." a contemplative look crossed the Doctors face then it brightened into a clear ear to ear grin "will you take off your sunglasses please?"

"Oh, shit, shit, blessing shit, shit" Crowley muttered. The angel at his side sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose "really? You're serious? People tend not to put too much on it. They just think I'm trying to be stylish, succeeding too"

The Demon leant back and gently slid his sunglasses onto the top of his head revealing a pair of luminescent yellow eyes with black slits similar to a snake's. The Doctor leant forward, seemingly unperturbed, bringing a large magnifying glass out of his seemingly bottomless pockets and examined Crowley's eyes.

"Some kind of Anguis of the neidr quadrant" shot in the dark cleverly disguised with enough confidence to fill an Olympic sized swimming pool.

"Not even close" the sly smile was back with a vengeance "now, who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor, nice to meet you, time travelling alien at your service" courteous in defeat.

"You're not with that flying saucer with the pepper pot and frog thing are you, dear boy?" Strange things had started happening, Aziraphale had consulted his massive collection of books of prophecy and had deduced that these must be signs and portents of the coming end.

"What? No, I have this little blue box, quite dinky but surprisingly spacious, anything else? I'm an open book" a puckish smile pulled at his lips.

"Do you know the antichrist" asked Aziraphale without preamble.

"Pardon" The Doctor had been relishing the mystery until this point but now seemed so speechless that he nearly slid of his chair. The conversation had just slid between the hands of his knowledge which consisted mainly of battling aliens and saving the human race. Religion wasn't his thing, not his style.

"You know The Adversary?" Crowley supplied. The Doctors brow creased.

"Destroyer of kings?" the Doctors confusion deepened.

"Angel of the bottomless pit" Aziraphale supplied.

"Great beast that is called Dragon?" Crowley provided a little desperately.

Aziraphale picked it up again "Prince of this word?"

"Father of lies?" it was becoming like ping pong.

"Spawn of satan?"

"Lord of Darkness"

"Sorry not my area of expertise I'm afraid, who is it?" The Doctor apologised.

"Well put simply, he is going to end the world, soon, sometime in the next week" Aziraphale as blunt as usual "oh and we can't find him because someone has misplaced him"

"Ngk" replies Crowley distractedly "well nice to meet you Mr Alien but we have things to be doing, not that it wasn't interesting of course but… oh go-sa-somebody I can't be polite much longer, could you just bugger off"

"Crowley! Don't be so rude" Aziraphale looks affronted even though just underneath there was relief "I'm so sorry for him, dear, but if you wouldn't mind going, there is the end of the world to stop you understand"

"That's more like it" the Doctor said enthusiastically "I'm a pro at stopping them, we'd best be off then"

He jumped to his feet almost breaking the delicate cup on the saucer as he slammed it down with glee. An adventure was afoot and the Doctor was going to make the most of it. He began to almost skip around the precarious piles of books towards the shopfront.

"Are you coming or not?" He called from the door "I've never worked with an angel and a demon before"

"How the…" the Angel began.

"…Fuck did he know that?" the Demon finished.

By the time they looked back to where the Doctor had been just moments ago he had gone, leaving the door to swing shut and a small bell to tinkle.

(1)Amateur Dramatics is a dog eat dog business, thus the over the top effort for joy and hilarity. One must always see them after a performance to understand, a look of paranoid misery is a default setting. It's a depressing hobby in truth

(2)Okay I like tea (panad) and I think its under-represented in fanfic and life in general

(3)Pun definitely intended

(4)Hard to imagine, I know, but at least you'll know for sure when he's pissed off

(5) Although most TV is infernally tainted (mostly by Crowley's hand), no shows are worse than the cop shows for the cheesy clichés that most right minded people physically cringe at. This phrase is estimated to be about a Stilton on the cheese scale

(6) He alas didn't delve into the fanfic of such literature as that would most probably have traumatised everyone in earshot.


End file.
